


The Kissing Trade

by WildcatPacer



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 18:23:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12658950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildcatPacer/pseuds/WildcatPacer
Summary: Darius asks Katniss for a kiss in exchange for game? What if she actually agrees? Enjoy!





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Just This Once**

My game bag weighs heavily on my shoulder. Compounded by the lateness of the morning, on today of all days, and it is easy to see why I am eager to be rid of its contents. For today is the Reaping for the 74th Annual Hunger Games - the first one that my baby sister, Primrose, is eligible for.

She had a nightmare as I was getting up to go out this morning, convinced she would be picked. I assured her that the odds are not in her favor, but she has even the slightest odd, nevertheless. And that, to me, is unacceptable. Add the fact that no preteen has ever won the Games, and that the last Victor from our home of District 12 won almost a quarter-century ago, and I am very much on edge.

Though I don't show it.

My hunting partner, Gale Hawthorne, lays down his pack on the counter of our first stop, Greasy Sae. The Hob's illegal black market is thriving today. I even see Peacekeepers who should normally be tearing this place and it's contraband apart actually guarding the place. Some are even making purchases.

My gaze continues to survey the crowd as Gale haggles for a price with Sae. It falls on the striking white-armored guard with flaming red hair when he is nearly at my side.

"Morning, Katniss," he gives me a beaming smile.

"Good morning, Darius," I reply politely.

Peacekeeper Darius is one of the few of our officers from the Capitol whom I actually enjoy being around. The only Peacekeeper I enjoy being around, in fact. Even though Peacekeepers come from outside the Capitol and are unfamiliar with our ways here in Twelve, Darius has ingratiated himself well to the people of the Seam. He is far less strict with protocol than many of his peers, and that's saying a lot, because the Peacekeeper force here is jokingly run by its drunk commander, Cray. The only slight downside to the ginger before me is that Darius is a bit of a flirt.

"Anything to trade with me today?" Darius asks.

I peer in my bag. "I have a rabbit." I offer him one of the medium-sized pelts, and he accepts it.

"Now what's a fair trade for this game?" Darius ponders aloud.

I smirk, knowing what's coming. "Name your price."

"How about a kiss?" He leans in close, beaming. "You give me a rabbit, I give you a kiss. Sounds fair?" He flicks at my braid.

I laugh and playfully shove him away. "No thanks."

"But I'm out of coins!" Darius pouts, trying and failing to mask his mirth. "Help me out!"

This exchange is an old joke between us. But joke or not, I know why Darius is asking me. Peacekeepers are technically not allowed to marry, or even enter committed relationships of any kind - not even amongst themselves, but especially not with the common people from Town or the Seam. Stationed in even a backwater district like this, one where its commander has somewhere between an indifference towards and disregard for the rules, and any Peacekeeper would be hungry for a poke. Theirs is a militarized lifestyle, so any pleasure should be captured quick.

I smirk, enjoying the torment of this officer far more than I usually do. "Sorry, coins only."

Meanwhile, Gale has finished his trade with Sae. He tells me he has to get home to dress for his last Reaping, and I encourage him to go on ahead. I have to be getting back too, anyway. Gale nods and giving a half-hearted wave to Darius, slips through the flap entrance.

Darius bids me goodbye and I watch him head out the back way, behind the far stalls. Even in our playful banter, I have never wanted to kiss anybody, nor have I ever been kissed before. And I would be opposed on principle to the idea of my first kiss coming from the lips of a Peacekeeper. However, Darius is one of the few men in this entire district whom I actually wouldn't mind kissing. And today is such a trying day on the nerves... I impulsively find myself running after him.

I catch up with Darius behind the back wall of the Hob, away from prying eyes. I grab at his arm. He turns around, eyes hopeful. "Yes?"

Wordlessly, I grab his face and pulls his lips against mine in the most passionate kiss I can muster.

I am horrible at it. Kissing, I mean. My teeth bump and slide against Darius's lips for a moment, which I quickly try to avoid. Even then, I cannot maintain a good position with my lips, as Darius's are ever-moving in awkward tandem with mine. My hands end up framing his face in an effort to keep him still.

After a moment or two, I release him rather roughly, breaking the kiss. Darius is staring at me, and he looks very pleased. But perhaps he's being nice. I think my kissing skills leave much to be desired.

"What was that?" He blinks.

"A one-time thing," I breathe. "Kiss for a rabbit, right? And... for luck."

Darius must see the fear in my eyes about the Reaping, for he suddenly swoops in before I can stop him and captures my lips with his. It was his trade to complete, his kiss to give, after all. "May the odds be ever in your favor."

And I run home to my mother and Prim and the blue Reaping dress that awaits me, pondering over my first kiss.


	2. Midnight at the Heap

**Chapter 2: Midnight at the Heap**

I finally strike out for home around midnight that night, having survived the Reaping along with my sister. After the ceremony was over, I had agreed to help Greasy Sae, Rooba and the other vendors close up the Hob. It has become something of a tradition for us to shut down the black market for the first day, sometimes two, after the Reaping, out of respect for our good-as-dead tributes. Though often, trading is not back up and running until the Games begin. This is also done as a precaution, as right after the Reaping would be a logical time for Cray to stage a choreographed raid of the place, just to remind us that, yes, he is still in charge. It hasn't panned out that way yet, but you can never be too careful.

The Hob is right on the border between Seam and Town, and my house is on the far side of the Seam, yards from the mines and the district fence. It is a bit of a distance, especially at night, along the dirt roads, so I decide to veer off to my right and pass through the Slag Heap as a shortcut. I also feel a little light-headed, after sharing a few rounds with Ripper to celebrate surviving the Reaping.

The district dump where many of my peers have their sexual encounters is deserted and deathly quiet. I assume myself to be alone, when a voice suddenly calls out behind me:

"Katniss! Katniss Everdeen!"

I spin about. "Peacekeeper Darius," I nod. I glance around me, noticing how the light of the full-moon shines across the 20-year-old's red hair and chiseled face. "Are you stationed here tonight?"

Darius grimaces. "One of the least desirable postings."

I smirk at him, amused. "I'd hardly call this 'least-desirable.' The place is dead!"

"It usually is, on Reaping Night. Reaping Eve, too; Purnia gave nothing to report yesterday."

And why wouldn't it be? After spending 24 hours looking death in the face, sex would be the last thing on anyone's mind. Even horny teenagers.

I don't know what measure is used to judge one Peacekeeper posting less desirable than another. With the way Cray runs things, none of them are particularly taxing. All one has to do at the Slag Heap is prevent any sexual assault and make sure consenting couples are using protection. The officers assigned to the Hob spend more time trading in it than actually guarding it. A patrol in Victor's Village is a cinch, as literally all a Peacekeeper has to do is open one door, make sure Haymitch Abernathy isn't dead of alcohol poisoning or otherwise in need of immediate medical attention, and then leave. The stockades and whipping post outside the Justice Building are falling down from lack of use; there hasn't been a whipping since before Prim was born. Probably the only station that requires any effort is outside the mines, where collapses and other accidents are all too common.

"So," Darius interrupts my thoughts. "What are you doing out here so late at night?"

I shrug. "I had to help the others shut down the Hob for the next few days. For the Games."

Darius grins knowingly. "There won't be a raid anytime soon," he tells me. "Just so you know. Commander Cray is exhausted."

I actually smile. "You mean drunk?"

"Sure, let's go with that."

"Isn't it illegal to openly discuss Peacekeeper business with a citizen?"

"I trust you," Darius chuckles softly. He clears his throat. "Mind if I walk you home? I'm bored here, anyways."

I am taken aback, but actually pleased too, and fall into step beside him. As we go along through the Slag Heap, I find myself occasionally glancing over at him before resuming my own thoughts. I remind myself that we actually kissed this morning.

And, no thanks to me, it was a really good kiss. I don't even care anymore that I locked lips for the first time with a Peacekeeper.

All at once, I feel skin tickle my cheek. Darius has pecked me there. I halt and turn to face him. He blinks, thinking he has displeased me. "Oh, I'm sorry..." But I don't let him finish as I press my hands into his chest, fisting his uniform in my fingers and crash my lips against his in a steaming kiss.

Perhaps it is because I am drunk. Perhaps it is because I feel embarrassed about fumbling our kiss this morning so badly, and want to make it up to him. Or maybe it's an expression of my relief at being spared the Games for another year. Maybe it's because I know Darius must have a crush on me, and I pity him. Whatever the reason, I have a sudden desire to kiss this man again where the desire to kiss anybody, much less out of the blue, was once anathema to me.

I drape my arms about Darius's neck, fanning across his shoulders as I deepen the kiss. Darius moans and takes me in his embrace, returning the kiss. With each joining of our lips, he deftly untangles my braid so that my brown hair tumbles down my shoulders in waves. Eventually, he hoists me up by my waist and spins me around in his arms. I hold to him fast. In the distance, on the far edge of Town by the Justice Building, I can hear the piercing shriek of fireworks as they explode in the nighttime sky above Twelve; some Merchant must be setting them off to celebrate the end of the Reaping.

Darius and I fall back into a pile of trash. Gallingly, I move as quickly as a hunter catching my prey, pushing and pinning Darius onto his back as I move to straddle his hips. But Darius is suddenly unchained. Still kissing me deeply, now prying open my mouth with his and slipping his tongue inside, he rolls me over onto my back and pushes the skirt of my blue Reaping dress up nearly over my chest. I feel his fingers ghost over my panties, slipping them down my thighs. He pauses.

"Mmmm..." I moan into his mouth, and taking his hand, guide him so that he settles between my legs that are now splaying wide. I consent.

I feel something bloated push into my entrance. Closing my eyes against the tears of pain, I clutch Darius closer and kiss him more firmly to ride through the discomfort. I have always been secretly curious as to what the fuss was all about with sex, but if this is all it is...

However, pleasure soon replaces the initial pain. I feel my core warming, even as something deep inside me breaks. Darius begins to slide, thrust, in and out, scraping our bodies along the gravel beneath us. I dig my fingers into the ground, can feel Darius's fingers catching in tendrils of my hair as he humps into me.

"Mmmmm... Hmmmm... HUHH! UHH! Darius..." I groan.

Darius only grunts in response, giving one more slam into me before seizing up and collapsing on top of me. Something wet and warm and sticky trickles into me, igniting the nerves there. Darius moves no more.

Kissing Darius gently, I roll us around so that I now mount him. I languidly rise off him, and hike my panties back up my thighs, smooth down my dress. I startle myself when I see the moon catch the sheen of red blood against the blue fabric.

I just had sex with a man. I made love with a Peacekeeper! The same officer who gave me my first kiss has now also been my first time, taken away my virginity. And yet, I cannot find words to fit the moment. I am a terrible speaker in general, but this is ridiculous!

"Umm... thank you. Good night," I croak. And I leave a half-naked Darius there, running out of the Slag Heap and for home.

* * *

It is only a few weeks later that I begin to throw up regularly. The Games are long over this year - another loss. When I miss my period, I begin to fear the worst. I steal a pregnancy test from Mother's stores and try it out. I test positive.

I am pregnant. With a Peacekeeper's baby.

Many Seam and even some Town women have fallen pregnant at the hands of a Peacekeeper before. If the identity of the father is not made clear, most officers just go on and leave their bastard children in the hands of the common mothers to raise them. However, if a sex scandal does blow up in the Barracks and the offender is outed, Cray almost always reassigns him to a different district, to save face. It is hypocritical at best, because everyone knows damn well that our Head Peacekeeper runs a prostitution ring out of his own home. Cray can have trysts and fuck women, but his men only can on the sly.

I start showing within a few months, and at first folks in the Seam suspect Gale is the father. Darius's name does not come up until I am nearly due to deliver, and then the rumors fly fast and sure.

It is only after the baby is born that I learn Darius came forward to claim paternity, and that Cray had him reassigned to another district immediately. Which district, no one knows.

So I have no choice but to raise our child alone. Our son with Seam grey eyes and a fine head of red hair.


End file.
